


I Wanna Dance with Somebody

by WaterSeraphim



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Bisexual Sett, Blood and Gore, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Dancing and Singing, Drinking, Fluff and Humor, Guns, In a slight au where Rakan has not yet met Xayah, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Sett being Feral, theres quite a bit of killing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24692539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterSeraphim/pseuds/WaterSeraphim
Summary: Sett ends up getting convinced to go to a bar with his close friends to unwind. The very same bar also happens to be featuring Rakan, the traveling entertainer, that night. Meanwhile, one of Sett’s fighters isn’t so happy with his leadership, and intends on stealing it from him, violently.
Relationships: Rakan/Sett (League of Legends)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 82





	I Wanna Dance with Somebody

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I finally wrote a fic to its entirety its been so long!  
> This takes place sometime after Sett became the boss of the fighting pits, but before Rakan has met Xayah. Considering the canon timeline theres probably no real world point in time where both of these were true, but hey, its fanfiction. I just wanted to write Sett and Rakan dance fighting together.

  
  


  
  


In the dead of summer the people of Navori were restless.

Something about the humidity and latent magic in the air made it hard to breathe without choking, or wanting to punch someone in the face. For those who claimed to detest violence, they sure were eager to kill each other whenever the seasons started to change.

Sett frowned into his drink. 

The summer fights were always the bloodiest, it made his senses go off balance with the thick of it polluting the atmosphere. The humans may not have been able to smell it above the sweat and body odor, but Sett wasn’t as lucky. Thankfully the crowds were too mindless to notice the way his fingers gripped the balcony of his viewing box, nails digging in and splintering off chunks of wood. 

Luxury alcohol couldn’t take the metallic taste off his tongue, but it made it easier to ignore the way it made his fur stand on end. 

He usually didn’t go about drinking in bars after fights, it was a lot of legwork considering the pits were already stocked with imported vintages from the previous ownership. Something about drinking Noxian beer felt dirty, though, and tonight he needed more than a buzz. Gaku suggested being among more lighthearted people would cheer him up. Sett had yet to see any truth to that sentiment, the rest of the patrons were as friendly as a pack of wolves with the way they were staring daggers into his back. His claws were still sitting unpleasantly against his glass, hyper aware of the fangs behind his lips and how easy it would be to lash out on someone for saying all the wrong things. 

Mi-ran mumbled something encouraging as Sett finished off the last of his drink. How many had it been by now? Ten? Twenty? Even more? Sure as hell didn’t feel like it. Maybe it was the bloodlust, or maybe he was just on edge. It took effort to stop himself from growling at anyone who looked at him funny. 

“I’m tempted to just go home and punch some bags of sand until I feel better,” Sett considered aloud. Less collateral damage that way, but also less fun. Hmm. 

Mi-ran hesitated for a split second before placing a hand on his shoulder. In that pause Sett felt a wave of guilt wash over him. If one of his closest friends was afraid to do something as simple as that, he must have been looking near predatory. It made Sett want to revisit his drink. Unfortunately, he looked down to find it empty. Right.

“How are you holding up, Boss?” She quirked her lips into a smug smile, it made Sett want to kiss her more than a little bit, but he knew she would put a knife in his thigh if he tried to do that without asking first. He’d been head over heels for her for years, and she loved to tease him about it endlessly. “Feeling better?”

Sett eyed her incredulously, confused as to why she was even asking when his current temperament was making a trained assassin  _ nervous,  _ then gestured to the wine sitting before her that she still hadn’t touched. “Nah, more like shit. Are you gonna finish that?”

Mi-ran wordlessly slid her drink over the countertop and into his hand. Sett wasted no time in downing it like water. Ionian booze was stronger than the Noxian kind, but to someone his size it wasn’t something worth competing over considering how hard he had to work to get drunk off of it. 

Gaku burst into laughter on his other side, his fist slamming against the wooden counter with a loud thud. Sett briefly imagined the dent he would leave if he was the one punching wood instead of Gaku. “Boss, maybe you should ask the cleaners back at the pits to pour you a glass. Might actually feel something.” Whatever chemicals they used to get all the gore off of the floor would eat a hole in his stomach. 

“We could raid a Noxian outpost for basilisk tranquilizers?” Mi-ran added airily as she studied her manicured nails. They were black, but shone purple in the low light. “Doesn’t that sound nice, Boss?” 

Sett grumbled something unintelligible about paychecks.

“He’s going to drink this place dry,” a waitress added unhelpfully as she breezed by with a tray full of orders balanced with one hand. “And we have a show tonight! We’re not going to have enough for everyone-”

“A show?” Sett attempted to ask, but the waitress was already halfway across the bar and wasn’t revealing any interest in returning. Probably some traveling musician from a nearby village, Sett prayed it wasn’t the guy with the  _ shakuhachi  _ that kept turning up everywhere, he was absolutely clueless with his instrument. 

“Hey,” Gaku nudged his shoulder playfully. “Entertainment! That’s exciting, right?”

Sett put Mi-ran’s now-empty glass down alongside his growing collection of finished drinks and shrugged away a groan of distaste. His tongue felt numb, like a vague slab of meat sitting in his mouth. Why were tranquilizers starting to sound like a decent idea? That wasn’t a good sign. “Anythin’ is better than this.”

Mi-ran grinned with her perfect teeth. The hand she had on his shoulder found its way down to his bicep, kneading the toned muscle like she knew helped him calm down. “Aww, come on. I wanna see my favorite Boss with a  _ biiiig  _ smile on his handsome face. Right, Gaku?” 

“Show us those fangs, Boss!” Gaku chimed in in agreement. 

Another hand found Sett’s arm mirroring Mi-ran’s hold, and now Gaku was also smiling at him like an idiot. Sett shot Mi-ran a crippling glare. “I’m your  _ only  _ boss unless there’s some other nine foot tall half-Vastaya running around that I don’t know about.”

“Don’t worry, Boss, you’re the only one for me.”

“Hey! What about me, Mimi?” Gaku made a cry in disapproval and attempted to swat at Mi-ran’s hand clinging to Sett, but since Sett was very large all he accomplished was slapping Sett’s pectorals a few times. “We’re married!” 

“You’re having fun with those aren’t you, Gaku.” Mi-ran snorted, which led to Sett doubling over laughing at the absurdity. 

“Ha! Boss is laughing, we did it Mimi!”

  
  


Gaku and Mi-ran were both seasoned fighters. Sett had met them long ago when he was some nobody kid looking for someone to get angry at in the wake of his father’s abandonment. Mi-ran used to belong to some old family that was prettying her up to marry her off to some weasel of a guy. That was until she took her fancy hairpin that was—by a stroke of luck—very sharp and pointy, and cut his eyes out for touching her body without her permission. She ended up getting denounced due to the whole thing, but hey, she did figure out she had some talent for killing people. Mi-ran was a bit younger than Sett, but she showed up in the pits at around the same time. She won enough for people to notice, and one wealthy patron even went out of their way to sponsor her legitimate assassin training. 

Gaku on the other hand, was a disgraced warrior framed for killing a woman  _ he says  _ he didn’t. Whatever actually happened, he ended up with the fighting pit as his only real way out of the bounty over his head. Instead of dying, he ended up becoming a fan favorite from the locals for his old school swordplay. When Sett became The Boss and kicked all the Noxians out, Gaku helped him find replacements that weren’t ready to slit his throat or poison his food at a moment’s notice. 

Mi-ran used to teach him how to cover up his bruises with makeup so his momma didn’t notice he was out fighting again. Gaku trained him in ways to relax outside of the pits, took him and Mi-ran to his favorite spots in the neighboring villages to celebrate after a victory. And more than a few times, they saved him after he made the mistake of starting trouble with people calling him a “beast-boy”. The both of them were friendly to him back when he was nothing but a bastard, so now that Sett was something more than that he was intent on repaying their kindness in full. 

Sett was thankful he never got matched against either of them, they wouldn’t all be sitting here today if he had. 

  
  


A voice speaking over the bar’s natural din broke him out of his memories. It was the waitress from earlier. She was trying her best to get everyone’s attention and succeeding somewhat mildly. “Thank you for joining us tonight at  _ The Lotus Blossom,  _ we have a special guest performing tonight. We’re eager to have him-“

Sett’s hair bristled, standing up in alarm. He didn’t get why it was happening until a very colorful man crashed through the front entrance with a feathery flourish. He yelled in a musical voice, “It is I! Rakan! The party has arrived!”

Sett disliked him instantly.

Apparently the sentiment wasn’t a common one. A cheery applause arose from the other customers, even Mi-ran was snapping her fingers. How the hell did she know this guy in the first place? He looked like a chicken. 

The name Rakan sounded vaguely familiar, and Sett was sure he’d heard of him before, but considering what was being presented before him there was no way he could have  _ forgotten  _ who he was. This Vastaya was tall, not as big as him, but Rakan was towering over the humans mingling about. His cloak was a shining golden that caught the light disorientingly well in such a dimly lit bar. His voice was charming, annoyingly efficient at grabbing the attention of everyone in the room, drunk or otherwise. 

The waitress that was supposed to introduce Rakan had a bemused expression on her face as the man took her and twirled her around several times. He lowered her into a theatrical dip, raised her hand to his lips and placed a kiss upon her knuckles. The audience hooted, someone threw a flower at Rakan that he then caught in his teeth. Unbelievable. 

“Why can’t you treat me like that?” Gaku whispered conversationally.

Sett rolled his eyes. “Because you can’t dance.” Despite his skill with a blade, he had no coordination when it came to footwork. There was also the tiny issue that Sett was over two feet taller than him. 

“You could teach him,” Mi-ran stated as she adjusted her shirt, sorting out the way it rested upon her chest.

Sett was staring, but surprisingly not at Mi-ran. Rakan finished playing around with the waitress and got the idea that it was time to spontaneously start singing. Rather than pick a corner of the room to stand in he was moving all over the floorspace. Shockingly, some people in the crowd were actually joining along, dancing and singing with him. It wasn’t in Ionian, but they followed the pitch and hummed to Rakan’s lead. There were a few Vastaya among them who  _ did  _ know the lyrics which only made Sett more uncomfortable that he himself didn’t. Had his mother sung this to him before? There was a nostalgia to it that he couldn’t quite place. Memories that faded with the passage of time and loss of innocence. 

Sett could feel the music stirring something within him. He did know the song somehow despite how impossible it was, predicting what Rakan would say before he could say it. The words should have been nonsense, yet he deciphered them effortlessly. Sett couldn’t help but long to join in, the emotion in the air was contagious. He fought to remain silent anyway, yet he wasn’t sure why. 

Rakan swept another into dancing with him, this time a Vastayan man. They were quick and feverish, matching the pace of the song in a stunning display of skill. Despite being strangers their interaction was bizarrely intimate, the man’s hand having found its place somewhere Sett would have punched the guy over if it was on him. Rakan didn’t mind at all, in fact it seemed to motivate him even further. His talons tapped out a beat that was quickly carried by the audience in a flurry of clapping and stomping. Gaku beside him fell victim to the joy and joined in. “Damn, he’s good!”

Sett clenched his fists. Why couldn’t he allow himself to relax? 

Rakan’s dance partner was growing breathless, but Rakan himself was showing no signs of stopping. The other Vastaya chose to tactfully send Rakan in the direction of a woman that was dying for his attention rather than collapse in the middle of the bar. She gave a squeal that made Sett’s ears twitch iritably as Rakan took her hand, and twirled her much like the waitress. 

He took the lead with each dance. Sett wondered if Rakan would flounder under his authority, or if he would fall in line as easily as he assumed control. 

As his first song came to a conclusion another one took its place. The beginning notes made his heart twist in his chest. This one was much different from the first, holding a more somber tune. Sett recognized it instantly because his mother  _ did  _ sing this one to him often enough to memorize it. It was from her tribe. A story about a young woman falling in love with someone who didn’t love her back. Hearing an entire bar of people bringing it to life was making him more emotional than he would care to admit. 

Sett swore Rakan’s feathers changed their hue to match the song. Flashes of gold shimmering a deep blue. Was he using magic just to heighten his performance? This guy was so flamboyant it was almost painful. Sett knew how draining it was to change even the simplest aspects of his physical features. He used to do it all the time as a child to avoid being picked on, and now he did it to hide stab wounds from his mother. 

Rakan’s dancing slowed, he released his partner and began to play the role of a heartbroken young lover. The emotions were pouring through his words, flooding all who heard them with intense sorrow. Sett’s own heart felt weary at the sound of Rakan’s beautiful music. It was such a drastic change from his previous song in every way. The notes were haunting, echoing long after Rakan had moved on to the next. Sett’s mother hadn’t sung it like  _ this.  _ Nothing he’d ever heard before could ever compare. 

  
  


“ _ To be in love with someone, who could never love you. _ ”

  
  


Some of the crowd were breaking out into tears, and Sett couldn’t really blame them. His own eyes were anything but dry. He was crossed between wishing his mother was here to experience this for herself, and not wanting to miss a second of it. 

  
  


“ _ Only he could have me feeling the way I do. _ ”

  
  


Gaku, having noticed his distress, whispered, “Boss, you’re looking misty eyed. Are you alright?” 

Sett silently nodded his head, unwilling to break the trance that Rakan’s performance had put him under. 

With another dazzling flourish of his cloak, Rakan turned to face Sett and sang directly to him. Challenging him, Sett didn’t look away. Rakan’s eyes were every color of the rainbow, even the ones that humans couldn’t see. Was that magic too? Despite their light-heartedness they were cunningly perceptive. Sett could feel Rakan’s gaze inspecting his body, sizing him up. Sett was used to being the center of attention, but he was beginning to feel like Rakan was too. 

  
  


“ _ My silent fears have gripped me long before.” _

  
  


Rakan moved closer, and Sett was faced with the possibility that the performer would pull him in for a dance as he did with the others before. That was, if Rakan had the strength to make him do anything in the first place. Dancing with him could be fun, but Sett would prefer to do that somewhere more private. He wasn’t afraid of a crowd, but he was concerned about Rakan making their dance feel like a business interaction. Sett could admit that Rakan was attractive, and what he wanted to do to the guy wasn’t exactly a spectator sport. 

Oh, how he’d like to make him sing. 

  
  


“ _ Must I always be alone?” _

  
  


He was standing directly before him now. If Sett focused he could sense Rakan’s magic radiating from him, the power tingling against his skin. His sweet scent was more intoxicating than the alcohol had managed in the last hour or so. And he was even more beautiful up close. All of Sett’s senses were being overwhelmed by the damn guy. Rakan was still singing, but the gesture was clear. He was singing to Sett, and only to him. Everyone else was merely a bystander to the performance. He offered up a hand, his claws were long and sharp, but well manicured. His fingers were much slimmer than Sett’s, thick and scarred by years of dealing out beatings. 

Sett could see his proposal, but couldn’t bring himself to accept. Maybe it was the seasonal violence lurking in his mind, or that he wasn’t really drunk enough for any of this. 

Rakan’s expression was pinched, his eyebrows furrowed and lips turned downwards. Confused, like no one had ever said ‘no’ to him before. He didn’t stop singing through it all.

Sett did not dance with him. He wanted to, gods. Rakan was pretty and more than willing. But this? This was too much. 

Eventually Rakan moved on to someone else, well aware when his offer was being rejected. While he was still playing the part of heartbreak, his shoulders were slumped visibly lower than before. His long ears were drawn back, his tail feathers drooping. Sett stared after him still, mentally kicking himself for not joining him, for making Rakan upset in the first place. 

The song quickly transitioned into another, its pace mirrored the first, but now it was in Ionian. The whole crowd was following along now, a chorus of drunken fools. Sett wished he had another drink to keep his hands busy. 

“ _ Sett.” _

He looked to Mi-ran, knowing if she was using his actual name then something was bothering her. Her face was a composed neutrality that instantly sent Sett on edge. 

Mi-ran’s long black hair cascaded over her shoulder as she leaned in close enough for Sett to feel her breath tickle against his jaw. It was all a force of habit, or maybe to put on a show, because Sett could hear the people  _ outside  _ the bar if he really focused. 

“ _ Someone’s watching you. _ ”

Sett’s claws dug into the countertop, suddenly fully alert. He had to stop his ears from instinctively swiveling around in search of any potential danger. That was a tell that would tip off whoever Mi-ran was worried about in a heartbeat. 

Who the hell was it this time? It wasn’t like Vrion and his Noxian groupies to involve the public and ruin their image. Lyssa had a fight today, she’d still be recovering from her wounds so it didn’t make sense for it to be her. Noll wouldn’t fight him anywhere outside of the pits due to his resounding vanity. That new trio from Bilgewater had been making empty threats all week, was it them? Or the man with the flail that had been eyeing him funny? It could just be some opportunistic members of the audience that wanted to bank in on his gold. Or maybe it was those elite leeches hiring mercenaries because they finally had enough of sharing and wanted the pits all to themselves?

There were too many people who wanted Sett dead for him to really keep track of them all. That was somewhat unsettling. 

Mi-ran pressed a kiss to his neck to disguise her next words as an action of passion. Having such a close friendship with her meant there were plenty of rumors regarding their completely _platonic_ relationship. Whoever was watching Sett wouldn’t be very surprised to see Mi-ran cozying up to him like that. _“Nine with guns, might be more outside. Do you want me to take a look for you?”_

Gunpowder.  _ Fuck. _ Sett’s nostrils flared, it had always been there beneath the smell of booze and whatever sweet perfume Rakan was soaked in. Bullets were a much bigger threat than a few guys with some knives. His fighting style wasn’t exactly one that incorporated dodging, which meant he would be digging out some gunshot wounds later. 

Gaku’s fingers tapped against the counter anxiously. Sett knew he was itching to fight, and to get revenge on whoever wanted to hurt his old friend. 

“ _ No,”  _ Sett breathed. “ _ I’ll take care of it. Leave out the back entrance and go to the pit. Make sure there ain’t more waitin’ there. I trust you to keep everyone safe. Bring Gaku with you.” _

Gaku sputtered,  _ “B-but—“ _

Mi-ran tangled Sett’s hand with her own, her thumb tracing circles into his skin. She kissed him again, this time on the cheek. He would have swooned were the situation any different. “ _ Come back to us, Sett.”  _ And it was final. 

She stood wobbly, catching herself on Sett’s shoulder as if she were drunk and having difficulty standing on her own. Gaku knew the game well enough and got up to help his wife, leading her to the restroom that was more or less a hole in the ground with a chair above it. Because of this, it was housed separately from the bar giving the two of them the opportunity to sneak outside without bringing any suspicion. Sett watched as they were swallowed up by the crowd singing and dancing to whatever song Rakan was in the middle of. 

  
  


It was time to put on a show of his own.

  
  


The wooden chair creaked in protest as Sett got up and left the bar. He didn’t have to fight through the crowd like his friends did. There was something about being a nine foot tall hulking professional killer that made people get out of your way. Sett listened in, catching snippets of rushed conversation between his would-be assailants.  _ The Boss is on the move. Follow him. Get ready to shoot.  _

Sett opened the front door only to be greeted with a wave of sweltering humid air. The sun had gone down hours ago, but the weather didn’t even have the decency to act like it noticed. The temperature inside was only controlled by magic, out here he had to fend for himself.

Besides the shitty heat, there were also a bunch of people with guns pointed at him eyeing him like dinner. 

“Lovely evening we’re havin’?” Sett suggested amicably. One of the guys hid his laugh behind a cough. 

An older man stepped forward and started to speak. The apparent leader of the angry-people-with-guns. “You’ve been pissing me off for a long time, half-breed,” he sneered.  _ And there’s my favorite insult, as always.  _ He was a short man with close cut black hair and a crisscrossing map of scars littering his face. Sure enough, Sett recognized him from the pits. His name was something like Aki, liked to fight with these huge saw looking blades. Sett hadn’t seen him around in a while, this must have been what he was getting up to while he was gone. “How’s it been sitting pretty on your ass while the rest of us had to fight for what we got?” 

It was a shame for him, sitting pretty while Aki fought made it much easier to watch and analyze his fighting style. He was a bit of a coward when it came to dueling, never taking the initiative to overwhelm his opponents. Aki merely waited for them to make a mistake, and capitalized on their vulnerability. 

Too bad he had to bring ballistics into it. Sett would have smashed his skull in quickly. 

“Move.”

Someone was behind Sett now, pressing something into his back and pressuring him to move forward. It was probably a gun, they seemed to have a lot of those. So much for creativity. 

“Ya think I just had it all laid out for me?” Sett failed to fight back a scathing laugh. “Everyone decided they wanted to die by my hand, just cuz they what, felt bad? Like I didn’t have half the competition out for my neck since day one? You’ve got a real funny idea on how I got to where I am.” 

  
  


Aki stepped forward, close enough that Sett could smell his damn arousal at the prospect of killing him. This guy was really getting off on this pathetic attempt holding power over him? “Maybe you were good in the past, but now? You’re old news, Sett. When was the last time you stepped into the ring?”

“If you wanted to get in my pants that badly you could have just asked,” Sett bit back. Aki’s expression turned into something far more sinister than his previous angry self righteous version. Some of his lackeys were shifting nervously, eyes jumping between the two of them in confusion. Must have been disorienting being brought into a murder plot just because your employer was horny and jealous. “I wouldn’t have said yes, but you-“

Aki grabbed Sett’s jaw with a surprising amount of force, a saw blade having seemingly materialized in his other hand. The teeth of his sword were cold, and dug harshly into the skin of Sett’s throat like sharp pins. “Watch your tongue,  _ half-breed _ , unless you want to lose it. You don’t seem to realize what you’re dealing with here.” 

_ I could say the same to you, asshole.  _ Sett growled, his ears flattening back against his head. “You know my record, right? Most people are smart enough not to challenge me to a fight.”

Aki grinned in a cruel display of teeth, “Now you see why I brought a few friends along with me?” Behind him, his lackeys raised their rifles as if on cue, which it probably was. Sett unleashed a silent string of curses as Aki continued, “Killing you is the only prize I need, but that girl of yours would be a nice trophy to make up for it.”

“Mi-ran would cut your cock off if you tried to lay a finger on her,” Sett hissed as the saw blade pressed deeper, welling up drops of blood. Just a few more of those, and Aki would be preparing his own grave. His muscles twitched in anticipation, the magic in his chest was crying out to be unleashed on these idiots. 

_ Course, I wore my nice shoes today, and I’m gonna get them all covered in blood.  _

  
  
  


Aki stepped away, and simply said, ”Kill him.” 

  
  
  


The flash of light was blinding, Sett’s eyes clenched shut out of their own volition. His body curled in on itself, expecting the piercing sting of bullets and blades. Instead in its place came the flutter of feathers and a sweet heady aroma. 

Hands were on his chest, Sett could feel the pressure of claw-like nails sliding against his skin. He opened his eyes to find a rainbow staring back at him, concerned and a little bit furious.

“Rakan…?” Sett breathed, confused beyond belief. Had this flamboyant fop just saved him from a line of gunfire? How the hell did he even get here? He’d been too wrapped up with the pressing matter of being shot to notice the singing inside the bar had stopped. Now it was replaced with screaming and the frantic sound of footsteps. 

“Ain’t no other!” Rakan’s face alighted with excitement. His feathers were bristling, all puffed up to make him look scarier. For some reason, he started fluffing up the fur on Sett’s coat too. “Hey, big guy, it’s time for some action, so look alive. They’ve got a whole lot of tubebows and we’ve only got one of me so we gotta be clean. But I feel real good! Let’s kick some ass!”

_ Tubebows? _

Sett gingerly removed Rakan’s wandering hands and looked past him to the crowd of angry lackeys. They appeared to be just as bewildered as he felt, what the fuck? Where was Aki? He wasn’t about to look a gift Vastaya in the mouth, but  _ what?  _ Around them was this large golden bubble, enveloping the two of them in a gentle glow. Distinct, elegant patterns shimmered in shades of yellows and reds. Any bullets fired at them were being stopped dead outside of its walls. 

So it had been magic that saved him, then. Rakan’s magic. That was awfully nice of him.

Sett brought up his fists, already adorned with brass knuckles, and looking for faces to crush. The damage Aki had done to his neck wasn’t enough to channel his magic all the way, he needed more blood, and this shield wasn’t helping with that goal in mind. “You don’t gotta do this, Rakan, this ain’t your fight.”

“Fight? No, this is a  _ dance _ . C’mon I’m so hyped up for this! You owe me!” Rakan pouted and waved his cloak around like it was supposed to make him more enticing. Maybe it was working, Sett wouldn’t ever admit it though. This guy was crazy, but for some reason his request was becoming more and more favorable. He’d been looking for some fun all night, drinking didn’t help, fighting like an idiot might.

Curiosity won over sense, in the end. 

“Guess I do,” Sett shrugged, unable to keep the smile from his face, and then offered up a hand. Rakan took it with a triumphant shout, allowing Sett to pull him in close and curl his large grip around his tiny waist. Sett purred low into his ear, “Let’s dance.”

  
  


Rakan grinned, bracing himself on Sett’s wide shoulders. “Hell yes!” 

The shield fell, and chaos broke loose. A dozen rifles fired at once, aiming for the two of them. Rakan was graceful enough to swiftly avoid them in a fluid motion, weaving between Aki’s men and distracting them from their main target. Sett wasn’t as lucky. He tried to sidestep and avoid the worst of it, but the burning pain littering his right side told him he wasn’t quite fast enough. He grit his teeth, allowing a seething growl to spill from his lips as he ripped a bullet straight from his shoulder. Gaku was going to be pissed at him for that later. The blood flowed freely, slicking up his hand and dripping down his arm. His fur stood on end, alighting with a golden glow and surging with power. Sett laughed.

The nearest guy was shaking watching him, another just turned around and ran. Sett stalked forward, baring his pointed fangs and bloody fists. 

Showtime. 

Sett grabbed the shaking guy by the front of his shirt. If he wasn’t smart enough to run like his buddy, there was no point letting him find the courage to shoot at him again. He lifted the man up in the air and pulled him right into his fist. Once, twice, three times. The guy’s hands were scrambling, blunt nails digging into Sett’s arms. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and sobs catching in his throat.  _ Pathetic _ . His nose broke with a satisfying wet crunch, haggard breaths filtered through his gasping mouth as he sputtered and spat up his own blood. 

“If you wanted to fuck around with The Boss, you should’ve brought bigger guns,” Sett hissed, and dropped the broken man to the ground.

_ Damn, that felt good!  _

Meanwhile, Rakan was still messing around with the rest of the horde. He was moving between them, pulling one into a spin before using their body as a shield for a spray of gunfire. Bullets lodged into each other, distant buildings, trees. Sett hoped that no one innocent was getting caught in the crossfire, but he had more to worry about right now. The head idiot himself. He hadn’t seen Aki since before Rakan made his entrance. Where had that weasel run off to? 

“Hey, big guy! Little help here?”

Sett’s arms were once again full of Rakan. He looked mildly embarrassed. Rakan’s feathers were brushing against his skin, and he was pleased to discover they were even softer than they looked.

“Throw me at them,” Rakan said calmly, as if it were a completely normal suggestion.

“What?!” Sett asked, already lifting the man over his head. 

“Yes! And then I leap in and while I slap them up you run in and-“ 

Whatever Rakan wanted to say was cut short by his scream as Sett launched him into a sea of men intending to kill the both of them. He did two flips mid air and landed in the center of Aki’s lackeys. 

“Now, gentlemen, I think we started off on the wrong foot. I’m Rakan, and he,” Rakan pointed over to Sett who was currently charging toward them. “Is going to kill you. Hey, look at my feathers!” 

Shots went wild as Sett rammed into the cluster of men, some bullets clipped his body, others missed by five Setts to bury into some poor nearby buildings. The pain only made him angrier, stronger, more bloodthirsty. He grabbed a stray gun and snapped it into two like a twig. He reached out and caught two men by their heads, and smashed them together, their skulls cracking like the booming of thunder. 

Rakan dodged between the frenzy to slide beneath Sett’s legs, only to knock another man aiming a rifle at him onto his ass. The guy let out a startled cry as he fell. Rakan slid along Sett’s back and wrapped a hand around his thick bicep, before breaking out into a bout of singing. Sett couldn’t help but laugh and sing along using the sound of breaking bones and gunshots as the supporting beat. 

“They can’t hear the music!” Rakan grinned, wrapping himself in Sett’s strong arms before spinning out of them and launching himself at another group of men in a flurry of golden feathers. Sett followed close behind, using the distraction to grab one of the bewildered stragglers and throwing him into his buddies. They all fell into a heap of awkward limbs and knives. Rakan decided it was a good idea to stand on them with his talons. 

“You’re not all bad at fightin’,” Sett noted somewhat breathlessly as he beat another guy's teeth in. There weren’t that many left now, and still no sign of Aki. He really didn’t feel like having to hunt this guy down to make sure he didn’t get his throat slit while he was sleeping. 

“ _ Dancing, _ ” Rakan corrected. “We are  _ dancing _ !” Another round of gunfire went off. Sett looked over to see that Rakan had stuffed roses into all of their rifles, and now he was trying to give one of the lackey’s a kiss on his cheek. “And you ain’t so bad yourself.”

A deafening blast made Sett’s ears ring. He faltered, dropping the man he had been turning into a pulp.

“You don’t go down easily, do you, half-breed?” 

Sett twitched, spitting out blood. His chest felt hot, something wet was going down his stomach. He looked down to see red. It went straight through? Rakan was yelling something to him, he looked upset. His smaller, slender hands cupped the sides of his face and urged him to turn. He did, and standing between a sea of unconscious bodies was Aki with a smile on his face and a much more expensive rifle in his hands. He reloaded the barrel quickly, never keeping his eyes off of them.

Sett’s vision was blurring gold. 

He could feel Rakan’s touch, magic pouring into him and making the pain fade away. Was he healing him, or merely numbing his senses to help him through this? 

“I thought you turned tail and ran. Guess you wanted to make my job easier for me, then.” Sett kept his voice even, not allowing the bastard the satisfaction of knowing how much that gunshot had actually affected him. Rakan was anxious beside him, his tail feathers bristling. 

“Your words are hollow, as always,” Aki sighed. He moved closer, step by step, his rifle never straying from Sett. “Scared, Boss?” 

“I don’t know,  _ you’re _ the one hidin’ behind a gun here,” Sett taunted back. Fuck, his stomach really stung. How was he gonna hide this one from his momma? He’d probably be fine if he took another one to the chest. Could he get the rifle before that happened? Aki was always a fast fighter in the pit, but that was with a sword. How quick could he reload after each shot? Did he even have any bullets left?

“Step back, Vastaya,” Aki ordered, eyeing Rakan with a look of contempt. “Unless you want to end up like Sett here.” 

The look on Rakan’s face showed he was absolutely pissed, but he complied with the order regardless. Did he have something up his sleeve? 

It was hard to smell anything over the blood, black powder, and Rakan’s perfume. Mi-ran told him to come back safe. She was gonna kill him when she saw him like this. That was if Gaku didn’t do it first.

“Good, now.” Aki smiled cruelly. He made a show of slowly drawing back the trigger. “Any last words, half-breed?”

Sett spat his blood in Aki’s twisted, ugly face. Seeing the way it contorted with rage was almost worth it. Almost. 

“You disgusting  _ fucking animal- _

Wrenching the gun from Aki’s hands was easier than he anticipated. Sett was much stronger, and thanks to the adrenaline, faster than him. It was the resulting shot that made him falter, the cry of pain coming from behind him that sounded an awful like…

Rakan. 

Rage tore through him, propelling him forward. Sett screamed, piercing his claws through Aki’s bulging eyes and tearing his throat out with his teeth. At this point the metallic flavor was the best he’d ever tasted if it meant ripping the life from his body. The man made a wet, messy gurgling sound before collapsing limp. He convulsed, his hands shaking and trying to stop the gushing fluid pouring from his artery. He would be dead soon.

Sett turned to Rakan, panic rising in his throat.  _ Please be okay. Please- _

“That was a hell of a dance!” Rakan said quietly, watching Sett wipe the gore from his face. He was favoring his left arm, his fingers wrapped around a slowly leaking wound. “Like, damn. You just ate that guy. I didn’t expect that!”

Sett had to force himself to breathe through his nose and calm down. His fur was still on end. “He shot you.” It was becoming clear that his reaction was a bit much. He probably didn’t need to use his teeth. At least Rakan wasn’t dead. 

“Don’t worry,” Rakan grimaced. “It only hurts a lot. I’m fine! It’s just my arm. I have another one.” 

“You jumped in my way,” Sett frowned. He meant it as a question, but it came out like an accusation. Why couldn’t Rakan take this seriously? 

“Yeah, I did. You took enough shots already.” Rakan’s hands were covered in blood, and his voice took a more solemn tone. It was low and absurdly attractive. Sett remembered the way the man had healed his wound, the gentle touch against his abdomen, that blood on Rakan was his. “I wasn’t fast enough before, so I was here this time.” 

“I… Thank you.” That was quite an understatement. It was likely that he wouldn’t have lived if Rakan didn’t swoop in to save him. 

Sett offered up his hand. When Rakan saw it, he smiled like it was a divine offering. They were both beat up and tired as hell, but Sett had promised him a dance, and he really wanted to give Rakan a  _ real  _ one. 

But first, maybe a location that wasn’t littered with bodies would be better. 

As they headed over to Sett’s fighting pits, Rakan returned to his relentless hyperness. After everything that happened, Sett didn’t have it in him to be annoyed by it. So when Rakan was insistent about fixing his appearance, and said something about the way that Sett’s coat clashed with his hair, he just smiled and let him talk. 

“ _ Sooo…  _ Back at the bar, you knew the words, but you didn’t sing. Why?” Rakan asked as he changed the way Sett’s hair parted for perhaps the twentieth time. 

“It didn't feel right,” Sett watched Rakan’s face as he focused very intensely on his task. He looked cute when he was all serious like this, with his brows furrowed and his lips pouted. “Never really felt like a Vastaya.”

Rakan’s attention was drawn by that statement, his rainbow eyes staring back at Sett’s golden ones. “But… but,” he vaguely gestured to Sett’s large body. “You are? One?”

The question had been bothering him the whole night, and after all the time he had to think about it, the answer was simple. “I’m Vastaya and human, but bein’ both really makes me neither. When people look at me, they see the one they don’t wanna see. So I figured I was gonna be my own thing. Life’s been easier that way,” Sett shrugged, which reminded him that his side was full of holes and made him grunt in pain. 

Rakan decided to cup Sett’s cheek rather than mess with his hair anymore. His gaze kept drifting down to Sett’s mouth before darting back to somewhere less suggestive. Did he still have some of Aki’s throat stuck in his teeth? “Okay, next question. Why didn’t you want to dance with me? No one, and I mean no one, has ever turned down dancing with me. That hurt, you know!”

“Because I would have liked it too much,” Sett admitted. 

“Like, wait. What? Liked it too much?” Rakan’s eyebrows soared into the air. “The hell do you mean by that?” He was grinning like he already knew, and liked the answer very much.

“That’s enough questions from you,” Sett brushed him aside and went back to walking in the direction of the fighting pits. He could see the building looming over the horizon. It wasn’t very far now. He could dodge the truth for as long as he wanted. Rakan’s footsteps were hurried behind him, his strides weren’t quite as big and he had to make up for it with speed. “How about you, why’d you help me in the first place? You didn’t even know me. Big risk to take for a stranger.” 

Rakan had the sense to sound embarrassed when he quietly replied. “ _ Cuz you didn’t wanna dance with me. _ ”

“You were ready to die over something as stupid as that?” Sett was too shocked to laugh. 

“We’ll I didn’t die, so I have nothing to worry about. Unless you plan on killing me.”

Dammit, why did he want to kiss this guy so bad? He couldn’t stop thinking about it, and Rakan was clearly interested. He should do it already, and get it over with. Just pull Rakan into his arms, and kiss him.

So he did.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Follow my twitter, @SeraphimWater !


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